


Don't Tell Dad

by BrandiChampane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Frottage, M/M, Underage Drinking, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandiChampane/pseuds/BrandiChampane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's not really sure why he kisses Dean but he wants more. <br/>Sam is 16, Dean is 20.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Dad

Sam shifts in the back of dad’s truck trying to get comfortable. The fireworks are about to start and Dean and him are stretched out staring at the sky. The stars are brighter out here, he notices. They have a few blankets laid out and a couple pillows to stay comfortable.

  
Dean crumbles up an empty bag of m&m’s, tossing the bag off the side of the truck. Sam wants to tell him to pick it up because littering is bad but he forgets how to open his mouth. Sometimes being this close to Dean makes his freeze up. Knowing that Dean is only a few inches away, shirt riding up to reveal the little happy trail starting to grow. Sam tries not to think about it, dick already stirring in his jeans. 

  
He can hear the cap of a beer bottle twisting off, then Dean is pressing the cold end of the bottle against his neck. He flinches and Dean’s laugh is soft in the empty field. He taps it against Sam’s shoulder until he grabs it. He sits up to drink it. Dad would kill him if he knew about this. The first sip is bitter, he doesn’t really like to drink, not like Dean and dad. Dean cracks open a bottle for himself, swallows down enough to make Sam sick and sets it aside. He grabs a pack of smokes and sticks one is his mouth. 

  
Sam watches, tries not to get too eager. Sometimes when they’re alone Dean will share one with him and Sam likes tasting it, knowing Dean probably taste like tobacco if he could kiss him. Dean lights it, inhales, and hands it to Sam before exhaling. “Don’t tell dad,” on his lips before he hands it over. They share it while they wait, minutes passing by in silence. Before they finish, Dean’s beer is half empty and Sam’s mostly forgotten his. He tries to swallow most of it down but the bitterness makes his stomach warm in a bad way. 

  
Dean laughs again, taking the last hit of the cigarette before tossing it off the side of the truck. He swallows the rest of his beer and settles into the blankets, head propped up on his arm. 

  
"Any moment now," he says. Sam picks at the label on his bottle before tipping his head back pouring the rest into his mouth. If he keeps his throat open and just lets it sink into his stomach it’s not so bad. When he finishes his cheeks feel warm with the slight buzz. His stomach is warm and suddenly he’s sweating. He drops the bottle into the cooler with the others and settles down beside Dean. 

  
The first firework shoots off. They’re not as loud this far away but the view is perfect. He can still feel the rumble of it below him but he can still hear Dean breathing behind him. He pictures Dean, mouth open and wide eyed up at the sky. 

  
A few moments pass and Dean scoots closer, so close Sam can feel him breathing on the back of his neck. He shivers, tries not to press back into Dean. Dean’s hand starts on his shoulder, a warm pressure before sliding down to his hip. 

  
"Would you look at the Sammy," he gasps as the next one shoots off. 

  
Dean’s fingers make circles over his hips. Sam is so warm he wants to take his shirt off, strip down to feel some relief. All he can focus on is Dean’s hand and how he wishes it would go lower. Dean shifts behind him, hand coming to rest on his stomach, little patch of skin hanging out. His shirts are too small for him these days. Dean plays with the skin there, hands stroking lightly as they watch colors dance in the sky. 

  
Sam inhales as Dean’s hand tickles his stomach. He can feel himself growing hard and bites his lip. He shifts, top leg pulling up, knee bent in an attempt to hide it. The movement makes Dean shift too, closer now. His back is pressed against Dean’s chest now, Dean’s hand so low his fingers are resting on Sam’s waistband. He mentally wills it lower. 

  
They’ve been close like this before and it always ends the same. Dean finally wakes from the stupor and moves away leaving Sam hard and wanting. But maybe if Sam stays quiet, stays still long enough. Just maybe. He ignores the way his throat closes up and his eyes burn, blames it on the fact that he hasn’t blinked in a while. Eyes still focused on the sky. 

  
They watch is silence, so still that Sam almost forgets where they are, that once this is over they’re leaving this town and he’ll be spending another sleepless night in the back of the impala. It’s not until Dean tugs on his shoulder, rolling Sam to face him that Sam remembers that this is going to end soon. 

  
Dean’s breath smells like beer and cigarettes when he talks. “You having fun?” He asks, hand looping around his waist again, fingers dipping in and out of his waistband. Sam inhales roughly, eyes slipping closed trying to remember how to speak. 

  
"Yeah, this is great Dean. Thanks for bringing me out, I know you really wanted to be with Rhonda tonight." He wiggles closer, Dean’s hand settled below the waistband of his jeans playing with the edge of his boxers. 

  
"It’s fine, ton of Rhonda’s out there but only one you, ya know," Dean shrugs as well as he can while laying on his side. Sam wants to hug him, to how him how much he appreciates this. Dean had a tough fight with dad, they were supposed to leave hours ago but Dean told dad this was important, he had to do this for Sammy. 

  
He wraps an arm around Dean’s waist and presses his face into his chest. He’s gripping on the the back of his shirt so tight that it wrinkles when he lets go. He’s not really thinking when he does it, doesn’t know why he does. He pulls back and presses a kiss to Dean’s lips, forgetting for a moment who they are. Forgets their brothers. 

  
Dean’s still, hand flat against his back, body tense beside him. He wants to take it back, wants hit rewind but he can’t and he knows it. He ruined everything, ruined this. Stained it. Knows this is the end of what they have, whatever it is. In a moment Dean’s going to realize what happened, push him away and call him the freak he is. 

  
Dean laughs, soft and uncomfortable. “You drunk already Sammy?” He wants to blame of the alcohol but the can’t. He wanted to do it, has wanted to for years once he knew what kissing was. He shakes his head, eyes wide and watering. Dean’s staring back at him now, eyes wide. His mouth goes dry, palms shaking and sweating. 

  
He pulls away from Dean, sits ups so fast his head spins. He’s staring at his shaking palms. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers. He feels the first tear spill. He can hear the finale, firecrackers exploding loud above him. Dean sits up, crawls on his knees until he’s sitting in front of Sam. 

  
"Hey, what’s going on?" Dean sounds scared now. He pulling Sam’s hands down, lifts his chin to look at him but Sam pulls away. 

  
"I don’t know why I did that," he says, a shake in his voice. 

  
"It’s fine kid, we can pretend it never happened." He sounds breathless, panicked. "Just go back to before, c’mon you’re missing the best part." He pulls at Sam’s arms, tries to get him to lay down again but Sam stays still. He doesn’t want to pretend it never happened. 

  
He doesn’t know he’s speaking aloud until Dean whispers. 

  
"What? What do you mean Sammy?" Sam feels the bile rise to the back of his throat but he needs to know, needs to know before it’s over. He shifts onto his knees in front of Dean and leans in until their lips are touching again. Dean tenses again, hands tight on his shoulders, not pushing him away but they’re gripping so tight it hurts. 

  
He gets braver, pushes a little closer, tongue licking against Dean’s lip until he opens his mouth. He breaks away, sitting back against the truck, breathing hard. He wants more, needs it but he won’t just take it. He needs to know. 

  
"What the hell? Seriously, what the hell?" Dean pants in front of him. 

  
Sam shrugs. “I don’t know why, I just…I think I love you Dean. I don’t, I know it’s wrong. I’m sorry Dean, I’m so sorry Dean. I don’t know why I did that.” He’s stammering, heart beating so fast it feels like his chest might burst. “I just, I need to know if you love me. It’s okay if you don’t, I just need to know.” 

  
Dean’s quiet, head shaking, hands still gripped onto Sam’s shoulders. He’ll hand bruises there if he doesn’t let go soon. 

  
"Of course, just, Christ…" He trails off, licks his lips. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, trying to think of something to say. "It just ain’t right, you know?" 

  
Sam nods, eyes watering. He wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, sniffling. He’s still breathing heavy, throat so tight it hurts to inhale. “I know, Dean. Doesn’t stop me from wanting you,” he’s so quiet now he wonders if Dean can even hear him. 

  
It’s so quiet. Dean hasn’t moved, aside from his hands grinding into his shoulders like he could rip them out of socket at any moment. Sam wonders if he’s going to leave him here, or worse if he’s going to tell dad that he’s a freak. He wants so bad for a wendigo to come by and rip him to shreds, make him look the way he feels. Like chopped meat. 

  
"Don’t tell dad," Dean says, then he’s leaning in. He lifts Sam’s head and kisses him again, soft this time. He pulls back and whispers into Sam’s ear, "Don’t tell dad," he punctuates it, shaking Sam’s shoulders as he repeats it. Sam nods frantically and suddenly Dean’s pulling him down onto the blankets again. Sam hates being so scrawny but he loves that Dean can move him so easily. 

  
Dean’s hovering over him, staring into his eyes. They’re wide, like at any moment he could turn tail and forget this happened. He looks hurt and hungry, like he can’t make up his mind about what he wants, brow pinched. The fireworks are over, the field so quiet except for insects chirping and the wind blowing leaves. “Say it.” 

  
"I won’t tell dad." 

  
Dean kisses him again, rough, all teeth and tongue, it makes Sam’s head spin. His hips shift as he starts grinding against Sam. He’s so hard he thinks he’ll come any minute, dick twitching and spilling precome into his boxers. He can feel Dean’s cock against his, so big and so hard. “Fuck,” he can’t stop it before he leaves his mouth. Dean laughs like he knows why he said it, like he can read Sam’s mind. 

  
They rut against each other in the back of dad’s truck. Dean’s grunting and panting, hips speeding up. Sam’s so gone in the feeling all he can do is lay there. Dean pulls his hands over his head, entangles them and presses them hard into the blanket. It gives him the leverage he needs to arch his back, press hard against his cock and grind faster. Sam moans and whimpers, trying to bite his lip. He hates that he sounds like a girl being fucked for the first time. 

  
Sam comes in his boxers, body going still. Dean keeps grinding frantically, whimpering, head pressed against Sam’s shoulder. He bites against the fabric as he comes, teeth sinking into the bruise he left. Sam moans and hisses at the feeling. 

  
When Dean finishes he sits back up against the truck and pulls out his pack of cigarettes. This time he lights one, hands it to Sam and lights another for himself. They smoke quietly, both breathing harsh. Sam really doesn’t know what to say but he feels good. 

  
They don’t talk about it on the way back to the shack they’re staying at. He says enough so dad knows he’s riding with Dean down to the hunt. Dad doesn’t think too much of it, just tells Dean not to get lost on the way


End file.
